Thursday, August 8, 2019

WORMS

The worms are driving me crazy. Why won’t they stop? Why are there so many of them? Is that even necessary?

Why do they crawl over and under each other? Why does it sound like skittering when they have no legs? Why is it so loud?

I cover my ears but the sound never really goes away. As I squeeze my eyes shut, I press the palms of my hands against my ears even harder. All this does is make their image clearer, their sound sharper.
The sound is now rushing water-the skittering noise gone. It’s fitting because it gives the illusion that I’m drowning. But is it really an illusion? My eyes and ears begin to hurt-even my hands-from pressing so hard. My heart is pounding and I’m taking quick, short breaths.

That’s when the whispering starts. Though the worms do not appear to speak, I know, deep in my heart, that this sound is coming from them. At first, the whispers are hurried and overlapping. They are children climbing over each other to get to a treasured toy. They’re indistinct and very loud, if whispers can be described this way.
As I grow steadily more unnerved, my breathing more rapid, my heart beating in a frenzy-the whispers suddenly take on a crystal clear quality. Though my ears are covered, they get through to me anyway, because I can hear them in my head.
The worms whisper terrible, awful things to me. They are shards of glass-these words-stabbing me everywhere. They are my feelings about myself, my worries about my family and future, and my fears about my children.

I want to scream, to make it all stop. But I can’t do that. I’m in our only bathroom. My husband is rushing me to get out so he can take a shower. My son is yelling at me because he needs help with his therapy assignment. And my daughter is crying because I don’t have time to play with her right now.

So I imagine closing the worms off in a box and locking it with a key. It’s a temporary fix but it must be done. I’m far too busy to give in to my despair.

Jessica S.
Aug. 2019

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